


Apollo In The Sun

by avengingwinter



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Politics, M/M, Musician!R, Secret Relationship, he's a rock star, it's cute, politician!enj, won't spoil more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengingwinter/pseuds/avengingwinter
Summary: celebrity news & tea (@celebsexposed) 1/12/2020@JEnjolrasFrance and @Rofficial spotted getting cozy at the wedding of Minister Enjolras’ best friends. They are both engaged in long-term relationships with unidentified partners.-In which Enjolras is the Foreign Minister of France and Grantaire is a global rock sensation.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 161





	Apollo In The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> look y'all probably know what's up even with the summary, but eeeeeek this has been in my drafts for a long time and I finally finished it. plus, I can't title. soz hehe. i swear, this is a cute one
> 
> to those who might have read my fic Off The Bright Side aka the football au, I SWEAR I WILL UPDATE. SOON. NEXT WEEK. Uni apps have got the best of me :(

“Good evening, London!” 

As Grantaire’s strong French accent rings through the Wembley stadium through the microphone, the crowd that fills the whole stadium erupts into a deafening roar. 

Grantaire chuckles. “Thank you so much for coming to my concert tonight - I am _so_ excited to be here!”

He looks down from the brightly lit stage, cleverly decorated with a street style, a few pieces of graffiti art that Grantaire himself designed splashing throughout the wide space, lights of different colours - mostly green, shining on his dark curls that are starting to sweat under the heat the light gives out. 

There are people of all kinds standing under the stage, bouncing up and down excitedly, reaching out, trying to reach him even if they knew they couldn't. There are signs of all kinds - he loves each and every one of them, truly, some written in tacky handwriting - “Be my loveR!”, which makes him laugh soundly, some artistically gorgeous, to say the least, Grantaire’s profile painted perfectly on the background. He snaps a picture during the break between two songs.

When Grantaire put his first album out around a year ago, he never expected for it to blow up the way it did, selling tens of millions of CDs all around the world. He never expected it to receive platinum all across Europe and in America, even shooting to the top of the charts in some of the Asian countries. He was just a fresh graduate from university who got a (useless) degree in art, and decided to put out some of the music he’s written in his years locked up in the dorm. There were songs documenting his worst days, immersed in endless cans of cheap alcohol in his studio slash bedroom, which, now he sings out the lyrics, sound emo as fuck and are honestly quite embarrassing. He supposes that is a good thing, it shows that he’s out of that… condition. He’s come very far, he’d give himself a pat on the back for that. There were songs that sound more _romantic,_ and he’s proud to say that it’s the heartfelt kind of romantic, not the bubblegum generic kind. 

(Not to take anything away from the bubblegum pop genre, they’re catchy and sometimes Grantaire could be caught guilty in listening to them)

Those were written through the years, as he went through the different stages of adoration towards the beautiful man he’d met in his first year that he’s fortunate enough to call his boyfriend now. There were songs which were inspired by other parts of his journey through life - his battle towards sobriety, his relationship with friends, his childhood memories… and people seem to love them. He doesn’t really get why, he doesn’t really see what’s so special about his songs, they’re just some rock-ish tunes Grantaire started writing on the back of a crumpled paper napkin from some bar he must’ve spent the night in and somehow got the chance to record. 

_You sit there in your heartache /_

_Waiting on some beautiful boy to /_

_To save you from your own ways /_

_You play forgiveness /_

_Watch it now, here he comes_

“Well, don’t think I have to say it, but this one is for my dearest who’s working hard back in France,” he shouts into the microphone, “You can’t hear it now, but I love you, Apollo!”

The crowd erupts in a louder cheer. They seem to like the love songs the most, which Grantaire can’t blame them for. To an extent, he does too.

-

**Europe’s Newest Sensation: R talks touring, fame and work-life balance**

By Karla Rodriguez

24-year-old Frenchman Michel Grantaire, popularly known by the one-letter pseudonym R, rose into fame in 2019 after publishing his debut album, _Dionysus in the Sun,_ reaching the top of the charts in 82 countries across the world. The recent university graduate, who is nominated for six Grammys this year, sat down with _Hello!_ in a Notting Hill cafe, where we talked all about his rapid rise in the entertainment business.

The emerald-eyed, raven-haired young man was wearing a plain hoodie and baggy jeans when he approached our table caught me a bit off guard. He almost seemed like… an outcast in the highly affluent neighbourhood, and it’s difficult to imagine that the smiling young man sitting down on the chair is a self-made multimillionaire. He seems to understand my slight confusion as he chuckles and says, “I’d wear a button-up, but it’s nine in the morning and I’m usually still sleeping.” 

His strong French accent brings him a unique sense of charisma - and I’m not the only one who says that. The millions of fans that he has all around the world would agree. “It’s okay, R,” I say, “A pleasure to have you. Let’s get started.”

We start way back, asking him about his upbringing in the Basque country. From previous interviews, we already know that R’s parents abandoned him in front of an orphanage when he was three months old - “I used to be really bothered about it, you know,” he shrugs, “Now, I can’t imagine how much they must regret throwing me out there!” He spent years from foster home to foster home, until when he obtained a scholarship to attend the Paris College of Art, when he moved into a funded, shared dorm, where he met his best friends. “They were all geniuses attending Science-Po,” he laughs when he reminisces, “I was such an asshole, plus obviously the odd one out. But I love them.”

Who are they? I ask, but R politely refuses to give out their names “because I don’t want people to bother them. They are all excelling in their respective professions.”

As he sips on his cup of (very black) coffee, he tells me that his underprivileged upbringing makes him even more grateful for what he has now. “I’m really aware that I could just, you know, go back to being broke, plus my degree is honestly fucking useless,” by this point, half of his cup is drained, and he puts the coffee down on the table. “So like, while I’m still kind of wondering why everyone seems to love me, I’m definitely not complaining because it does make me live a lot easier.” When I tell him that his song, _Sober,_ has inspired one of my brother’s friends to stop doing drugs, he grins warmly, obviously elated for the impact his song has had. “Nothing makes me happier than hearing my songs have a nice impact on people,” he smiles, “I used to think I was good for nothing, even in university - to hear that someone listens to my music and gets their shit together is just amazing.”

He’s come a long way himself too, and I ask him if he’s comfortable talking about his rather troubled university days. “Thank you for asking, it’s rare when a reporter asks for consent, asks about what _I_ think,” he smiles fondly at this, which my gut feelings suspect is not just because of the inquiry. I don’t pry, though, just took the compliment and thanked him gracefully. “But I’m open to talking about it, it’s my past and there’s no point avoiding it.”

He tells us all about the depression peaking in his first year of university, because of a new life in such a bustling city, because he was surrounded with so many high achievers, because of his rapidly declining self-confidence. “I just felt like shit,” he said, “I slacked off, didn’t hand in my assignments, didn’t go out of my flat at all. If I did go out, I was probably stirring up trouble in some bar around the sketchy parts of Paris. Or just in places _with_ whiskey. I was drowning myself in alcohol, might have done some drugs too - I was just really fucked up.” Judging from the well-versed young man with such a bright smile in front of me, it’s quite hard to imagine R in his worst days, but he says that he’s incredibly glad those days are over, and we are too.

“One of the most important people in my life is my first-year professor, Prof. Madeleine,” he tells us, “While I was just wallowing in my misery and just, not doing work in general, he was always emailing me and on the rare chance when I showed up on campus, he would force me to stay in the studio for hours and draw _something._ I hated it back then, I hated what I came up with, but now I look back, it really helped me to like, throw myself back into schoolwork when the time came. And well, I really loved art too much to totally give up, even when I was giving up on myself - I did do some paintings and stuff while I was locked inside my room with cheap vodka. Prof. Madeleine had me give them to him when I started going back (to university) more, and decided to put them in a showcase. I was sceptical at first, I didn’t think people would like them, I was scared that if people bashed my art, I’d fall into depression again, you know, I was just starting to get better then. But people really liked my art and I even sold some of them. I was just an 18-year-old desperate for any kind of acknowledgement back then, so it helped my confidence a lot - and well, I still like myself a few bottles of vodka here and there now, but I’ve been better since the 2nd year, attended all my classes properly and graduated without a hitch.”

Without a hitch, yes, when we searched up the records in PSA, Michel Grantaire graduated top of his year. “It was kind of a fluke,” he blushes when we bring it up, “I love art though, I’ll always love art and I’ll keep painting even if I didn’t actually become a painter, thank God.”

We figure it’d be a good time to ask him about his love life. It’s known to the world that R is publicly bisexual, and is in a long-term, stable relationship with a mystery boyfriend he calls “Apollo”. We _try_ our luck in figuring who this “Apollo” is.

“I’m not telling you his name,” he says, “Well, I’ll give you this, he’s French, from Paris, and we live together. He’s amazing.”

It’s okay, we’ll stick with calling him Apollo. So how did they meet, how long have they been dating, and just how lucky this Apollo is to have caught the attention of this major heartthrob? “Oh my God,” he laughs when we ask him this, “ _He’s_ lucky? If you see him, if you know who he is, then you’d know that I’m the lucky one. He’s confident, smart, handsome, just perfect in general.”

He really does love Apollo, doesn’t he? Yes, judging from his lovestruck smile that never left his face since we’ve brought his boyfriend up. “He saved my life,” he mentions as he sips on the last bits of his coffee. We ask him why - and what we got was - R met his boyfriend in his first year of university when he would attend his boyfriend (then crush)’s social group meeting in a cafe, where he usually got his alcohol then. “I was such an ass, and we kept on arguing,” he laughs, “He hated me so much back then. But I always loved him, since the first day I saw his face.”

Well, I’m sure many of our readers would love to hear how R got out of the friendzone, or, hate-zone. That is, apart from his talent and looks, of course. “I don’t know,” he says, “I remember we had this really big argument, and he was yelling at me, and I yelled back, and then I just ran home because it got really bad and I just felt terrible, and I locked myself inside crying,” he laughs heartily when he tells me that now, but he tells me to emphasise that it was _really bad_ , and “Kids, do not become an alcoholic or you’d become like me in first-year uni, antagonising your crush and making him hate you.” 

“He came banging on the door the next morning, and he came in, and we talked, I told him about how much I was struggling, and he was like ‘I’m going to be with you through this, you can be better, I will help you’ and I was both confused and just _so_ in love and I just blurted out a love confession to him,” he says, all in one breath, which catches me with surprise, but he continues. “I thought I was fucked, right,” he laughs, “but he just smiled and told me that he’s sorry that he was ever mean and that he loved me back and he’ll always be there for me after that, and that was the happiest moment of my life. We kissed and got together right after - but our friends seemed to have seen it coming.”

A love story for the rom-coms, I’d say - R provides that they’ve been happily dating for five years now, and the mystery man has been there for him through his recovery both from addiction and depression. “He was there through my withdrawals, therapy, and he forced me to just go out and _do_ something, which was so important,” he smiles, “It’s really fortunate of me to have someone there to help me out of the darkest times.”

How’s life on tour with a boyfriend back in France, and will we _ever_ get to know “Apollo”? R says it’s not that hard, because they’ve got Skype, they trust each other, and his boyfriend is equally busy back at home. “He’s a workaholic, he _never_ stops - he barely knows when I’m supposed to get back,” he chuckles, and it’d be kind of worrying to me, but since he sounds so fond, I’m willing to let it slip. “That doesn’t change how much he loves me though, and I know it.” I can’t help but smile, because while R always has his signature, charming, lopsided grin on stage, it’s both refreshing and satisfying to see him smile and blush shyly like a schoolboy instead of the snarky heartthrob we know him as. “And someday, yeah, you all will know him, no matter through me or not. But I’ll show him off when the time comes.”

After the performance in London, R is due to head back home to Paris since his tour is ending, and we ask him how long we’d have to wait until we hear from him again. “I’m literally touring again in December,” he laughs, “A small one around France, but still. I mean - I’ve got a few songs written, but an album will come when it’s ready. Don’t be impatient!”

Well, the fans can’t wait to see more of this gorgeous young musician, and we leave him a parting suggestion to keep his adorable French accent no matter what. “I feel quite embarrassed honestly, but everyone loves it, so yeah, don’t worry, I’ll keep the accent with me!”

-

When he was appointed as France’s youngest Foreign Minister last year, the country was split into two, half of them adored him, half of them hated it. A 23-year-old who only interned a year, taking on one of the most major roles of the country? Well, he was famous throughout the country in his school days, organising successful protests and getting arrested a few times, and for another reason - his looks, which landed him in front of a few magazines before he got into the political spotlight, got him quite a lot more attention for all his protests, and might explain the quite high female approval rate last year when he started out.

(“Not true. If you were talking about looks, _everyone_ can appreciate a person’s exterior no matter the gender. Plus, who cares about looks? I’m here to serve the country,” he’ll tell you.)

His political science professor back in Science-Po, whom he interned for right as he graduated with flying colours, Professor Lamarque, appointed him as Foreign Minister right after he was elected president. The half that loved him were refreshed to see a young, hopeful face in office, with solid plans in terms of strengthening relationships with countries all over the world while standing strong in France’s advantages. The half that hated him were appalled to see a newcomer who just looked like a rich blonde teenager taking on such an important role, but Enjolras never doubted himself. He knew that he had hopes, and he could make them come true. 

He’s had his fair share of front pages this year, some of them just exclusive interviews because people were interested in hearing juicy details about the poster boy of France, some of them controversies because he couldn't keep his temper intact while dealing with some ambassadors. (Like the time he rolled his eyes 39 times, tally kept by some people online, at the Chinese ambassador and yelled at him, “Do you think us Frenchmen are stupid?”, which he knows is kind of inappropriate, but he’s trying. 80% of the time he wants to yell profanities at foreign ambassadors just like how he did in protests, but he couldn’t.) All over the world, he’s been the talk. The major news. The rebellious student leader who somehow was put into the political spotlight in the blink of an eye. After all, there are thousands of photos, arrest records, interviews, letters to the editors of him, from him, all over the internet, that showcases all his anger and passion - and not everyone loves it. However, under his work, France has truly strengthened her relationship with her allies, established herself as bigger of a world power, and all-around just thrived. So the previous people who doubted him now have to admit that this kid has actually got what it takes, no matter if they hate his personality or not. His approval rate is high, and he’s damn set on continuing to get his work done, earn more experience and one day become the President of France. Then, he can finally get on doing the work that he’s been dreaming of since Lycee - promoting equality and improving the livelihoods of French people from the top. Do all the work that the politicians he saw when he was younger weren't able to. President Lamarque is doing amazing, and he admires him to the end of the world, but he’d very much like to take on that role himself someday. 

-

**_An excerpt of the 17/3/2020 episode of “The Late Show with James Pearson” on ABC, Hosted by James Pearson, 8,201,142 views on YouTube_ **

_(Applause ring from the audience as the introductory part is cut from the video. JAMES PEARSON stands up and shakes his hand with ENJOLRAS, who is dressed in a navy blue suit.)_

**P:** Very honoured to have you here, Minister Enjolras.

 **E:** Very happy to be here! Just Enjolras is fine.

 **P:** Well, for the audience who don’t know you yet - you’re 23, the second openly gay foreign minister to take office, and you’re the _youngest_ foriegn minister in the whole world, is that correct?

 **E:** (smiles) Yes, all correct.

 **P:** And let’s start with something fun -

 **E:** Oh, no.

(The audience laughs)

 **P:** Oh, _yes_ . You just got the front page of this (props the January edition of _Vanity Fair_ up on the table) magazine, _A tour with French minister Enjolras in his childhood estate_ \- which got you… quite viral on Twitter, didn’t you?

 **E:** Okay. Okay. (shifts in his seat, which prompts even more laughter) Uh, I wasn’t actually very aware of that until my partner showed me the Tweets, but yeah, I guess. (shrugs)

 **P:** Let’s read out some of the highlights of the tweets, shall we?

 **E:** Shall we… not?

 **P:** (ignores him) From @littlebird12. _That’s not a fucking minister that’s a whole ass Prince charming._

 **E:** Thank you… for saying that I’m charming? But I swear I’m doing pretty well as minister.

 **P:** We’ve got another one, _hey,_ don’t sink into the couch just yet - this one is… (laughs evilly) _amazing_ . (clears throat) _Gosh just fucking crunch me and eat me like a baguette and I’ll just say oui oui Monsieur._

 **E:** (looks absolutely terrified as he sinks further down into the couch)

 **P:** Okay, I swear this is the last one for now, and it won’t be _that_ intense. From @hannahaisling. _Holy shit just ship me to France right now please. Why is their foreign minister so hot and why do we have fucking clown ass Pompeo?_

 **E:** Not going to comment on your Secretary of State, but hey, come visit France, we welcome you!

 **P:** You don’t really need to comment on our Secretary of State, because we have this priceless picture of you at the UN Climate Change Conference last week - 

_(A picture of ENJOLRAS, both palms propping on his chin, looking absolutely disinterested and borderline angry, in the middle of the eye roll)_

**E:** Let me - hey, no laughing just yet, let me just - I wasn’t rolling my eyes _at_ him, I was simply doing some eye exercises that my partner taught me, plus I _always_ look kind of grumpy, don’t I?

 **P:** _So_ … by mere chance, you were doing the eye exercises while our Secretary of State was giving his speech on how people are “overreacting” about climate change? (suppressing a laugh)

 **E:** (stony-faced) Absolutely, just a coincidence! Eye-exercises are just for them not to deteriorate, given how much time I spend in front of the computer.

(The audience clap, cheer and laugh)

 **P:** (choking in laughter, looks into the camera) _Ahhhh,_ whoever told me Enjolras was humourless? _So_ wrong. You’re funnier than some of my showbiz guests.

 **E:** Thank you, but also - believe it or not, I used to be absolutely humourless… _and_ even angrier.

 **P:** _Even_ angrier? 

**E:** (smiles fondly) Yeah, after getting together with my partner around five years ago now, I’ve gotten a lot gentler and I guess some of his humour has rubbed off on me, which, again, I suppose, is not all bad.

 **P:** Certainly not a bad thing, (to the audience) am I right?

(The audience whoop and cheer)

 **E:** Thank you, thank you. America is more welcoming than I previously thought!

 **P:** Well - don’t let our politicians fool you… (glances at ENJOLRAS knowingly)

 **E:** Hey, at this point you’re trying to make me say something bad, aren’t you?

 **P:** (dramatically, winking) No, no! Alright, let’s talk about something else. France.

(ENJOLRAS sits up straighter, smiling, which again, prompts quite a lot of laughter) 

**P:** Goes unsaid that you love your country… right?

 **E:** Oui, vive la France!

 **P:** There’s gotta be _something_ not-so-good about France though -

 **E:** France is the best country by far - for one, we use the metric system like normal people do…

 **P:** Right, (laughs along with the audience), I’ll give you that - so, what’s the most ridiculous stereotype you’ve received as a Frenchman?

 **E:** Honestly, in my opinion, all kinds of stereotypes are ridiculous. But… if I had to choose one, probably when I was in China… we were in the city, and I told a kind old lady that I was French through the translator. Apparently, the first thing the lady asked was why I didn’t have a beret and moustache!

 **P:** Imagine you with a moustache though…

 **E:** Terrible. It would look terrible. 

**P:** You might start another viral trend on Twitter… you never know!

-

Glancing up to where the single flicker of light is, coming from Enjolras’ study, Grantaire sighs - not that he expected anything else. Hauling his suitcase up onto the porch, it’s quite a miracle that Enjolras doesn’t hear the noise. He supposes that it’s fortunate that their neighbours are separated enough from their house that the constant noise from the two of them, getting home from the airport or the office or the studio often late at night. It’s two in the morning now, and he’s still working. He knows that there’s a document Enjolras has to draft for the end of the week, but he’s willing to bet that Enjolras has done more than his share of work already. 

The door is slightly open when Grantaire sneaks up the staircase, and he sees Enjolras hunched over the desktop, hair clipped up, typing away. He quietly walks towards his boyfriend and wraps his arms gently around his neck. “Enj, I’m back,” he whispers.

Enjolras turns towards Grantaire slowly and stands up, pulling him into a slow kiss. “Hey, R,” he says, “You make zero sound when you walk. I forgot that it’s Wednesday today, sorry I didn’t text you.”

“Missed you too, babe,” Grantaire laughs, “No more work. Let’s get into bed.”

Enjolras whines, “No, I still need to finish this up,” and tries to move back into his chair.

“I’ve been away for two months and you welcome me with this? I’m hurt,” Grantaire pouts, “Your document isn’t due until Saturday!”

“You’re evil, you can’t pout at me, that’s unfair,” Enjolras mutters, but he reluctantly goes and presses “save” on his keyboard. “You win,” he says, and wraps himself tightly back around Grantaire. “I hate you,” he says, but they fall into the king-sized bed, clung together.

“No, you don’t,” Grantaire teases as he kisses Enjolras’ nose.

“No, I really don’t,” Enjolras sighs, snuggling closer to Grantaire, “I missed your face.”

“I missed you too, babe, and I know what you’re going to suggest right now -”

Enjolras looks up, smiling suggestively.

“But,” Grantaire starts, “You look like you’re about the collapse. You’re tired as shit, you need to sleep right now.”

“That’s not true, I’m not tired at all,” Enjolras argues.

“Yeah, yeah, how long have you been awake?”

“Not very long.”

Grantaire just looks on, unconvinced.

“Fuck off,” Enjolras groans, “Fine, maybe more than 24 hours,” he gives up, wraps himself even tighter around Grantaire, then mutters, “But I really did miss you though.”

“I know,” Grantaire whispers, “Love you.”

Enjolras falls asleep merely moments after, but not before muttering a “love you too” back.

-

“Morning, R,” Enjolras says, voice still thick from sleep.

“Morning, Enj,” Grantaire ruffles Enjolras’ hair fondly, “How was work while I was away?”

“Busy,” Enjolras mutters, “The trip to the Philippines was horrible though - the place was really pretty, but the president was an absolute asshole. I wanted to deck him right there, but Ferre and Professor Lamarque would’ve killed me for sure.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it,” Grantaire laughs, “What was he like?”

“Straight up said that being gay was a disease. Asked me if I’d like to ‘get the same doctor’ as he used to get. Thinks that a high rate of rape is because of girls being beautiful. I’ve found records of all the shit he’s said, I was _this close_ to confronting him,” he sits up now, “And he just went on with his casual fucking homophobic remarks even though I was literally sitting there. Bastard,” he seethes, and Grantaire lays his hands on Enjolras’ tensed shoulders.

“Well, it was a good choice not to burst all your majestic fire at him,” Grantaire half-teases, but it’s reassuring. “Wouldn’t want you to land yourself on the headlines because of screaming at the president of the country you’re trying to strengthen your allyship with, eh? - No pouting,” he adds, “I know you still want to set fire to all bigots, but you’re the star politician of the world now and you better behave, alright?”

When Enjolras nods and mutters his affirmation petulantly, Grantaire lands a soft kiss on his cheek, “You’ll use your words to get rid of them instead. You’re already changing the world, and you’re _my_ Apollo.”

“Possessive much?”

“Yes, and I’m proud of it. Now let’s not talk about those bigots - did you know that some journalist really told me that _you_ were lucky for having me as a boyfriend?”

“I read it,” Enjolras smiles, “I read every interview you do. And she’s right, I’m the damn luckiest person in the world to have you as my boyfriend.”

“You’re a dork,” Grantaire says, but he’s smiling. “But I’m the luckiest - remember how I pined after you for a damn year before we got together? God, imagine if they find out that I’m dating the person who’s chosen as the literal _Prince Charming_ of politics, that’s going to break the internet.”

“I honestly don’t know how they haven’t figured it out yet,” Enjolras shrugs, “but I’m not complaining. It’s fun having you _all_ to myself - and oh, did you know that some hater while I was at the airport last month called me a stuck-up son of a bitch who probably only listens to classical -”

“He’s not wrong though,” Grantaire laughs, “Chopin is your favourite musician - hey, I don’t count. You love me, but you don’t even like my music that much. How is listening to classical an insult?”

“No, it wasn’t, but it was funny, he had no idea,” Enjolras continues, “He was like, ‘Enjolras, stop living in your bubble and grow up, act like a proper adult,’ - he’s just jealous that people like me have actual dreams - R! Don’t mess with my hair even more, let me get to the good part - then he started to rant about how I could start by ‘living in the modern world’ so I could put out policies that didn’t sound like a child’s wish - he surely hasn’t looked at my track record which is the fucking best in France’s history, and I could listen to ‘modern music’ like _yours. ‘You look like a secret judgemental rich asshole,’_ he said - actual quote - ‘ _You act so inclusive and shit, bet you think anyone who isn’t lawyers or doctors or academics or politicians are no-goods. If I put R next to you you’d probably side-eye him with disgust just because they aren’t high-class egotistic maniacs like you.’_ He fucking told me that I’d be disgusted with the love of my life.”

By the time he finishes this, in one breath, he looks back at Grantaire, who is simply smiling at him in utter adoration. “You’re so cute when you rant,” he says, “How did you remember every word the stupid person said?”

“He’s not _totally_ stupid, because he seems to like you,” Enjolras retorts quickly, to which Grantaire mouths ‘sappy’. “But I hold grudges, and you know it.”

“Of course I do,” Grantaire lands another kiss on Enjolras, this time on his neck - two months without seeing Enjolras in person, without touching him, is just too much. He’d be down to land a hundred kisses on Enjolras right now. “People are ridiculous, but you’re always the best.”

Sometimes they miss it, going out without having to worry about the paparazzi following them, without having to worry about being spotted and put on the front pages - the days where they could freely take a walk in the park or kiss in a cafe. However, they both know that there is sacrifice that comes with fame, and to spend less time together in public while both of them are making their mark on the world in their own ways? Fulfilling their dreams? It’s worth it. They want to be known for their own fights, own achievements, and that alone - at least while they’re starting out. They won’t admit it, and they’re both mature enough to understand their own abilities, but it would, for the both of them, feel kind of like they were leeching off each other if the news would only focus on the fairytale story that is them. And they’re happy like that, spending most of their time in Paris cuddled up in their bed, talking about all they’ve seen and heard in their ventures, or at one of their friends’ houses reminiscing about the university days.

All the time apart doesn’t take away even an inch of their love for each other.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Enjolras asks.

“You.”

-

**R (@Roffical) 24/5/2020**

ask me anything and I’ll answer. #AskR

**jess (@jessikatm) 24/5/2020**

musicians are 99.99% of the time part-time politicians (not an insult), so what do you think abt france’s state of politics? #AskR

**R (@Rofficial) 24/5/2020**

@jessikatm hmm I think it’s the best there’s ever been tbh - people in politics rn at least seem decent. also I’m kind of vain, I know, but hey - look at our foreign minister ;)

**KALI | THEY/THEM (@kalifornia) 24/5/2020**

@Rofficial Yes enjolras is super hot, but wouldn’t Apollo be upset if u drool @ another man in public? #AskR

**R (@Rofficial) 24/5/2020**

@kalifornia hahahahahah. surely not! he’d be okay with the tweet 100%. (just gave him a kiss, he confirms it's okay. he says thank you for asking though)

-

“You look amazing, shame that we won't be able to spend much time together in the wedding tonight.”

“You don’t look too shabby either,” Grantaire says as he wraps the tie around Enjolras’ neck, “I really think it's time for you to learn how to tie a tie though, Mr. Politician. Plus, there'll be _plenty_ of time for you to lay your hands on me tonight…”

“R!” Enjolras’ face is as red as his tuxedo now, “We have a wedding to attend, and I’ll have to deliver a speech tonight. Oh my God, you can’t make me think about these things!”

“Alright,” Grantaire laughs, “All done, best man. I'll see you later,” he pecks Enjolras on the cheek one last time.

They haven't really attended any public or semi-public events together after they've established themselves under the spotlight, but today is Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s wedding, and Enjolras would literally rather die than miss his best friends’ wedding. 

They know that there'll be journalists - after all, Courfeyrac _is_ the youngest senator of the country and Combeferre, while more low-profile as a paediatrician, they're both still nonetheless widely known as Enjolras’ partners in crime (literally, technically) back when _Les Amis_ aka the Science-Po official social justice club was at its height of protest-organisation. Especially when all their speeches and posters and rallies were somehow dug up from the depths of the internet when Enjolras was sworn in. And they've already talked about this with all their friends - they'll be seated at different tables, only talk casually - since Grantaire was always so reluctant to join protests (and was just there, blended in the crowd to support his boyfriend), there are virtually no pictures of them caught together. The media probably thinks Grantiare is not even acquainted with them. 

As Enjolras walks into the banquet room, a few journalists are already there to ask questions. “I'm so happy for them,” he says, “Yeah, being the best man for _both_ of them kind of sounds crazy, but it's a pact we've had since we were eight. I was going to be Combeferre’s best man, and Ferre Courf’s, but since it just… doesn’t apply anymore, I’ll just gladly take up both the places. They’ll be fighting for the place in my wedding though,” and a little awkwardly, “Yeah, he isn’t here - my boyfriend is occupied with an event tonight,” (well he's not lying, is he?) “We're great, and he's very happy for Ferre and Courf too. Now I’d have to go in for the final rehearsal, sorry.”

He barely holds it in during his speech - as he talks about how he's “seen it coming” since they met each other on the kindergarten playground when they were three. And as he goes on with his speech, his voice never falters - years of public speaking and now in front of millions of people, he's trained to always stay charismatic. Compelling. Touching. And he's had just enough experience to let out enough emotion to hold everyone’s attention but not completely lose his cool. But his heart is bursting with so much joy for them - years he's seen them quietly in love with each other, terrified to ruin their friendship; and the year before they got together, acting as _both_ their go-to counsellor. He was there when the proposal happened - he was in it, bringing Courfeyrac back to their kindergarten. It all plays out in his mind, and he's so _delighted_ to see his best friends, two of the people he loves so dearly, entering their next stage of life hand-in-hand. Together. Stepping into their happily ever after. 

(“We love you so much,” Combeferre whispers before the ceremony starts, “and you'll be next.”)

His tears start to let loose when the vows are exchanged, and by the time they say ‘I do’, Enjolras’ face is completely wet with tears, eyes red in utter joy and pride and love. 

He feels two strong hands wrapping around his neck and although he'd know that sensation from a mile, he still turns around, shocked - because -

“I know,” Grantaire says quietly, their heads almost touching, “But I can't just sit there and watch you cry, can I?”

“Happy tears.”

“I know, they really deserve the best.”

“They really do,” Enjolras then glances at the table of journalists whose camera flashes are directed at them, “I’m just going to pretend that they aren't snapping pictures of us.”

“Let's deal with those later when we have to. Care for a dance?”

_Oh, my love, my darling /_

_I've hungered for your touch /_

_A long, lonely time…_

-

**celebrity news & tea (@celebsexposed) 1/12/2020**

@JEnjolrasFrance and @Rofficial spotted getting cozy at the wedding of Minister Enjolras’ best friends. They are both engaged in long-term relationships with unidentified partners. 

**kaya! (@kstephj) 1/12/2020**

what the fuck they’re BOTH cheating on their five-year partners? fucking cancel them

**Blue sky (@atlanticwhale) 1/12/2020**

Holy shit. There’s nothing they can say to deny - multiple videos and pictures can be found all over the internet… kissing and hugging and dancing. They act like a couple. It HAS to have gone on for quite some time. Feeling so terrible for their partners.

**Lucas (@lifeofluke) 1/12/2020**

Wow guess we have a very French scandal… will Enjolras resign?

**AURORA | BLM (@auroralightz) 1/12/2020**

@lifeofluke as a French girl, I don’t think so. I used to like him bc I thought he was both competent and hot, and tbh he’s an amazing politician but fuck him if he cheated on his boyfriend. What a bastard!

**Vic (@askdj1204) 1/12/2020**

Wtf I’d never expect Enjolras out of all people to be a cheater. Seems like such a high-achieving person with all altruistic morals… hypocrite!

**yasmine | stan R (@yasminstcloud) 1/12/2020**

maybe you all need to chill out and look into what happened first? nothing is confirmed and none of them have come out or commented … don’t just input on things u don’t know much about.

**ellis (@elllllllis) 1/12/2020**

@yasminstcloud look i know ur fave is being exposed (i like R’s music a lot too) but like. he got caught cheating. he’s talked about how hot enjolras is before on his twitter. how hard is it to understand… he’s a fucker. 

**Talia (@venominmyveins) 1/12/2020**

but what if they’re literally dating and we all just don’t know hahahahahah

**gracie / steve rogers stan (@rogerthatmyfriend) 1/12/2020**

@venominmyveins ok one of my fav singers’ image is literally ruined but i did laugh at ur tweet (imagine if that came out true tho DHSLKAJH we’d all be clown af)

**Allison (@rightupmyallie) 1/12/2020**

I can’t believe this - their partners deserve so much better. 5 YEARS, to keep their relationship SECRET (both of them have never even appeared in public with their boyfriends) then to find that their star partner has cheated on them with some other hot person? Men are terrible.

**ACAB! or, jessica (@heartilyeclipsed) 1/12/2020**

They both always seemed so in love with their partners. WTF, looks can be deceiving

-

“Minister Enjolras, President Lamarque has called you to his office,” the girl interning for him shyly says as he hastily puts his work bag onto his chair. 

Enjolras sighs - the girl looks at him weird. Not that he’s surprised, because he did see the whole Twitter explosion the previous night, and he’s not liking it. He knows that by not making their relationship public in the first place, they both might’ve played a part in this whole fiasco, and well, if he saw someone cheat on their long-term partner he’d be fuming too, so it’s technically not the Twitter users’ faults - but they literally _hadn’t,_ and it makes him quite furious that people are slamming them for just having a nice time. 

While he always says that he doesn’t care about what people think of him, and to a great extent he really doesn’t, he is a leading political figure in France and he is serving the people of France. He knows that there are people looking up to him, trying to learn from him, just like how he had admired Professor Lamarque back when he was a fresh-faced university student. And it does pain him to think that these people are disappointed by him even if it’s for something that he hadn’t done. He’s thankful, he supposes - that Grantaire is there to at least calm him through all this shitshow and they’ll probably have to discuss how to tackle all this properly when they get home tonight.

“Professor Lamarque,” he nods as he walks into the President’s office.

“Enjolras, good morning - though I don’t expect it to be going great for you.”

“Yes, Professor, I’m terribly sorry for bringing all these rumours and battering and insults for our cabinet, for your leadership - but -”

“Enjolras - don’t apologise. You’re also the victim here. He’s the boyfriend, right?”

“How’d you know?” Enjolras is quite shocked - he doesn’t recall Grantaire meeting Professor Lamarque at all. He knows that Enjolras had a boyfriend, he knows that Enjolras’ boyfriend did art in school, but he doesn’t know _who_ Enjolras’ boyfriend is. Sure, Grantaire had appeared a few times on campus before, picking Enjolras up for dates, but he doesn’t ever recall any interactions that would lead to Professor Lamarque remembering Grantaire as Enjolras’ boyfriend.

“I know you. You aren’t a cheater,” Lamarque simply says, looking warmly into Enjolras’ eyes, “Plus, I do somewhat recall a handsome boy in the early protests you managed back in school. I didn’t know his name, but I guess I do now.”

Touched doesn’t even begin to describe Enjolras - his inspiration, mentor, boss, trusting his character despite all the rumours flying on the internet and all over the news.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“I know I say I don’t play favourites, but you know you’re my favourite student. Go home for the day and talk to your boyfriend.”

-

“Wait, why are you home early? It’s barely nine.”

“Went into the office and talked to -”

“Oh fuck, did the President…”

“No, he knows. He knows you’re my boyfriend. He remembers you from the protests, and told me to come home so we could sort this all out.”

Okay, Grantaire thinks, he's got this all under control - there are people raging online, as they should - they don’t know them, they don’t know the truth. And when Enjolras was softly snoring against his chest late last night, he lied awake, thinking if his plan was the right way to deal with all this. With his Paris concert coming up only two days later, all this news is blowing up even quicker, but he’s getting excited just thinking about it.

“I was thinking,” Enjolras says, “They know, right? They all saw us. Let’s just go out there and tell them. It’s been so many years anyway.”

“Enj,” Grantaire starts, pushing him down onto the sofa gently, “I’ve got a plan to deal with this.”

“A plan?” Enjolras is starting to raise his voice now - “What do you mean? Don’t you want to just sort all this out quickly - I’m tired of people yelling online that we were all cheating and shit when we were just - doing our own thing!”

Running his hands through his hair, check. Gritted teeth, check. Red face, check. From all the signs Grantaire has compiled through years of intricate observance, Enjolras is getting _really_ agitated, he thinks - best to start calming him down. “There were hoards of reporters outside my office this morning - I got out of the car, and they started _bombarding_ me with questions, and I just wanted to shout at them. Shout the truth. But I can’t. I _couldn’t._ They all looked at me as if I was a monster. A man with no morals. I’m fucking tired of keeping this a secret!”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire says, steadily putting his palms on his shoulders and looking him in the eye.

“Sorry, sorry,” Enjolras mutters, “I’m just - fuck. You must be having it so much worse online. People are obsessed with you on Twitter, aren’t they? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Grantaire touches Enjolras’ cheek gently, “I can take it. I’ve been through worse. And I know you’re stressed. You’re not used to dealing with all these rumours about your personal life.”

“I can face all the bashing about the policies I raise, and yet I throw a tantrum after a night of people accusing me of cheating,” Enjolras laughs bitterly.

“And that’s not your fault. If you really want to get it out now, we can draft out some instagram post and post it now. Then the world will know. I’m okay with that.”

“But?”

“ _But,_ I do have something big planned, if you’re up for that.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not telling you. But I promise you, the whole world will know about us in… less than a week.”

“I trust you. Okay. I’ll wait. But I’m definitely not stepping out of the house until your Paris concert, okay? I can’t guarantee if I’ll lose control and tell everyone if I see another person ask me about us.”

“You’re actually a baby. I promise you I’ll make the wait worth it. I love you.”

“I love you forever.”

Grantaire smiles as he goes to the kitchen to make breakfast for Enjolras. Two days and he’s going to show off his amazing boyfriend to the world. And hopefully do more than that.

-

**Statement from the President’s Office**

President Lamarque is aware of the news surrounding Foreign Minister Julien Enjolras and his personal life. 

Minister Enjolras and President Lamarque have known each other for many years. Throughout his interactions with Minister Enjolras, President Lamarque is confident that Minister Enjolras is a competent man with high morals, absolutely more than able to excel in his work. After a discussion with Minister Enjolras on Monday morning, Minister Enjolras has taken a one-week leave from the office to deal with the issue with his family. He will return to work next Monday. 

President Lamarque continues to place unwavering trust in Minister Enjolras. He also urges the public to give Minister Enjolras space in this tough time for him and his partner. 

President of France

_Antoine Lamarque_

2 December 2020

-

**R (@Rofficial) 2/12/2020**

there were things that I didn’t deal with in the best way. the full truth will be out soon, in person. it’s simply inadequate to explain online, and you guys deserve a proper explanation. apollo and I are together and well. as well as we could be, probably better than you guys think. don’t worry about us.

-

**_r/popheads_** _Posted by u/runningtoyou 12 hours ago_

**Ok, but what if Julien Enjolras had always been “Apollo”?**

See, I know that everyone has been talking about R’s pictures and videos with the French Foreign Minister Julien Enjolras from the C-squared wedding on the 30th, and I know most of the people online (probably most of you here, also) are fuming bc they’re supposedly cheating on their long-term bfs, but here’s my input. What if Julien Enjolras _is_ R’s boyfriend Apollo, and they weren’t cheating at all - we just didn’t expect Apollo to be a well-known hot politician?

Look. They’ve _both_ been dating their very mysterious boyfriends for 5 years. They’re the same age. They both attended university in Paris. It’s just too much of a coincidence. That’s already a sign pointing that they might have been dating all this time, just somehow managed to dodge all paparazzi? And then if you take a closer look, there’s nothing pointing _away_ from it either. You’ve got the whole “Apollo” nickname - Sun God. Julien Enjolras literally is the human embodiment of the Sun. You’ve got his very very blonde mop of hair and all his passionate speeches and delivery that literally radiates heat and light and rage. And R had literally stated that his boyfriend was a) French, b) Parisian, c) handsome, d) loves politics, which all suit Julien Enjolras quite well. I mean, who loves politics more than he does? As a native Parisian, I’ll tell you - _no one_ in France. Then you’ve got _that_ tweet from Ask R back in May, R saying that Julien Enjolras is hot and some fan asking if “Apollo” would be upset - to which he replied “surely not” and laughed. This makes a lot more sense if Apollo _was_ Julien Enjolras. 

Julien Enjolras talks about his partner in interviews occasionally, but they mostly point towards his boyfriend being more aware of pop culture than he is. “He shows me tweets”, “He introduces me to modern music” - while they really don’t mean much, it’s safe to say that R would be more than qualified to do all this. (The biggest “hint” that point towards R being Enjolras’ boyfriend, from Enjolras himself, is probably that one time he said that his partner is “very good at guitar”) And then you’ve got R mentioning that he met his boyfriend in university, and most of his friends are Science-Po students. Enjolras is a Science-Po graduate, the same year as R. 

I know these might all seem like stretches and obviously if they really cheated, it’s completely shit, but I’m just saying - they both seem way too in love with their respective partners to cheat. The statements released from both parties (President’s Office counts, right?) also never acknowledged if it happened or not, and according to Enjolras’ track record of owning up to everything he’s done, including his long list of arrest records, this just doesn’t seem that simple.

-

For a moment, Grantaire _was_ worried about the shitshow that has happened in the past few days turning his fans away from his Paris concert, but from the full state of Stade de France and the cheers that come from all over the place, that was a pointless concern. After the statements they’ve put out two days back, while there were still aggressive comments spitting insults at their “cheating”, most people seem to have kept their speculations to themselves, waiting for one of them to come out with an explanation. 

Grantaire loves touring worldwide, seeing fans from all around the world from all cultures, signs of all languages - sometimes he learns to greet his fans in their native languages, or even learn a local song in that country. But, nothing compares to holding a concert in Paris - surrounded by people sharing his beloved home with him, he could make French jokes casually and get people to laugh, which is _so_ much easier than being funny in English - and just, looking out from the stage and seeing familiar buildings and breathing in the familiar chill of the wind. It’s just home, and it reminds Grantaire of the days, playing gigs in pubs with his first, half-broken old guitar which is still hung up on their room at home. When he was stuck in his pest-infested flat that reeked with half-paint, half-vodka. Paris is beautiful. She grounds him. She reminds him of the hard work he’s given to reach where he is now. She gives him a sense of warmth, a sense of home. She’s where he found his calling, found himself, found the people he loves the most.

Enjolras stands backstage today, and for a few reasons. Come to think about it, Enjolras has actually only been to one of Grantaire’s concerts, and it was one in Munich while Enjolras was coincidentally on a diplomatic trip to Germany. During that time, Enjolras was swarmed by hoards of people and paparazzi, snapping pictures of him even though he was already wearing a hoodie and a cap, and Enjolras has vowed to himself not to appear in the general audience of Grantaire’s concert ever again to first of all, avoid speculation and more importantly, to keep the media focus on his incredible boyfriend. Of course, especially _this_ concert, with all the news still buzzing, it would’ve been impossible for Enjolras to blend into the regular audience. Plus, Grantaire would’ve been adamant for Enjolras to stay backstage anyway, so all that he’s planned would go as smoothly as he wants it to.

“Are you enjoying yourselves?” he yells at the audience, receiving a deafening cheer through the stadium. 

“Glad to hear it,” he continues, “This is not a secret, but France is my _favourite_ place to play in!”

The audience cheers louder, and Grantaire’s whole being is just buzzing with joy and excitement. He feels so, so fortunate to have the chance to do what he loves for a living. And spreading love to people all around the world while doing that? It just fills his heart with a sweet sense of warmth. 

The numbers he’s played today of course included most of the hit songs from his number 1 album most people here are looking to listen to, but he’s also included some records from his earlier days, not officially put out in his album but only as videos on his social media. The more raw, less professional pieces that he’s written mostly in his early university days. They’re mostly acoustic, _sad,_ but what’s better than playing all these songs that are so close to his heart right at his home?

“So,” he coughs, voice a little hoarse as the night’s youth starts to falter, nearing eleven - “It’s been what, four hours since the concert started? Yeah?”

In response, the crowd erupts into a mixture of yells Grantaire cannot quite understand, which he supposes he could make out “We want more”s and “Let’s fucking go”s, which are all, well, quite desirable responses, he’d say. He chuckles into the microphone, muttering, “Well, I’d love to continue on for hours, but some of you all probably have work tomorrow, plus I don’t want my voice to get ruined or else I can’t put up the new album in time, eh?”

Half of the crowd erupts into another wave of cheers, but the other half of the crowd groans at the mention of the concert ending. Grantaire laughs - the mixture of applause and moans does sound quite interesting to be honest. 

“I’ll make this ending the most memorable one, I swear. This is going to make all your tickets worth the price.”

He takes a breath. This is what he’s been looking forward to the whole night, the whole day - this is what the fans don’t even know that they’re waiting for. This is what the reporters probably mixed within the thousands of people are certainly waiting for. 

“I’m sure you all remember the viral news that happened just,” he glances at his watch, “two days ago - don’t you?”

Judging by the sudden silence of the audience, well - it’s a yes.

“And I know I’ve promised to give everyone a proper explanation about what happened - so here’s it. I’m going to tell you all the total truth, right here right now.”

“I know there has been a lot of speculation, theories, insults - I’m not offended, really - I don’t blame any of you if you were disappointed. I’d be disappointed if I saw someone that I admire and love, _that is if you admire or love me,”_ he was met with some chuckles, albeit mostly quietness, “And for those who trusted me to give you a good explanation and trusted my integrity, _his_ integrity, thank you.”

“As you all know,” he starts again, sitting on the stool just brought out by the stage managers. “Thank you,” he acknowledges the young man and turns back to the audience, “Apollo and I have been together for many years. I was just entering university when I met him, and well, we’re both out of university now. We’ve been through many ups and downs, we’ve had many, many arguments, we’ve cried, we’ve walked out on each other multiple times - but we’ve supported each other, we’ve encouraged each other, we’ve been together through every step of the way. And we love each other. We’ve always stayed together. And he is the only I’ve loved, I love, and I will love.”

“So everyone, here’s Apollo. He’s ready to say hello to all of you, and I’m ready to show off my amazing boyfriend to all of you.”

The lights crew have been briefed on this already, and Grantaire is so grateful for his loyal brothers and sisters that are his crew. The stagehands, the lights, the sounds, the front of house… they’ve been with him since his first national tours and they know each other so well already. They’ve seen the video a few times now, but none of them have leaked it to the public even though it would’ve probably given them quite an amount of money.

All the stage lights that were brightly illuminating the stadium before went out, and the video starts on the projector. 

-

_[“26 September 2014”, the captain on the video writes, “I met my destiny in a little cafe near my dorm.”_

_Combeferre appears on screen. “Not trying to take credit or anything, but I really called it. The first time R walked into our meeting, the first time he decided to insult our cause, our plans, the first time they shouted at each other, I knew they were meant to be. Because there was never anyone who stimulated him as much as R did, and there was no one who excited him the way R did. Even the first time they met.”]_

The music starts as he hears a small portion of the crowd erupt into gasps. He smiles gently. This particular cover, Grantaire has planned for months. He did consider rewriting it into a rock version so he could play his guitar with it, but he (and his band) decided ultimately that it’d be better to keep it the way it was. The backing music is a tender piano with bells chiming, the kind of music that Enjolras likes, and the kind of music Grantaire associates with the Enjolras at home, the Enjolras that not a lot of people have the privilege to see.

_It must have been cold there in my shadow /_

_To never have sunlight on your face_

He shrugs as he sings this. Of course he doesn’t have the sunlight on his face, he _is_ the Sun.

_You were content to let me shine /_

_That’s your way /_

_You always walked a step behind_

_[Photos and videos now feature - mostly group pictures in which you can’t see anyone clearly, some videos of the group of friends hanging out but muted, and a few of Grantaire and Enjolras, but without Enjolras’ face showing]_

The crowd seems to be getting what's going on as they start to shuffle and gasp even more. A few of them take out their phones - and Grantaire thinks, _document this. Post this. Tell the world. I'm shouting it from the rooftops._

_So I was the one with all the glory /_

_And you are the one with all the strength /_

_A beautiful face without a name, for so long /_

_A beautiful smile to hide the pain_

_[The slideshow of pictures continues - and now Enjolras’ face is clearly shown. Anyone who watches the news will know, yes, this is the French foreign minister. The Prince Charming of Politics. The guy he's been dating for years. It starts out from when they first started dating, titled “Summer 2015”. A few of his favourites are - the one with Grantaire clipping Enjolras’ hair up as he buries his head into his debate speech, the one where Enjolras and Grantaire pose excitedly together in front of the Eiffel Tower, and the one where Enjolras is peacefully asleep on his shoulder, the drying blood still evident from the previous protest.]_

He did put a lengthy instrumental break before the chorus, because he's got quite a lot to say. “Yes,” he yells at the crowd, looking at the video intently, “He's Julien Enjolras. He’s our foreign minister, and he's the love of my life. He's been the love of my life ever since I saw him all those years ago. And I'm sorry we kept it a secret, because we were scared, we wanted to build our careers independently. And now we have - and there’s no way to keep it secret anymore. So here's my Apollo. The person who's always been here for me. The person I admire the most. The most perfect, handsome, caring, passionate, smart boyfriend. I hope you all like him!”

The crowd erupts into a cheer louder than anything Grantaire has ever heard. 

_[It’s Courfeyrac who appears on screen this time. “Enj and R?” he says, “They're made for each other. R balances Enjolras out - we know how intense Enj gets. If he wasn’t dating R, he’d probably stay in his office till four in the morning every night. And he in turn pushes R to do the things R’d never expect himself to be able to do.” He smiles, and adds, “I’m so glad for you guys to see what we’ve been privileged to see the past five years. True love.”]_

_Did you ever know that you're my hero /_

_And everything I would like to be /_

_I could fly higher than an eagle /_

_For you are the wind beneath my wings._

Grantaire closes his eyes as he sings the chorus - he pictures that instead of the thousands of people in front of him, it’s just Enjolras who’s sitting next to him, looking at him with a soft, easy smile. He’s never sung a song with this much emotion, and yes, while he’s written most of his own songs, and yes, he does pour his heart into every song he sings, but this one - this cover is a song that Enjolras loves. A song whose lyrics literally tell what Grantaire feels about his boyfriend. His best friend. His hero. The person who sends him off to reach new heights, but also the one who’s always been there whenever his wings buckle and he crashes down. Enjolras is the Sun, but he is also the comforting touch that pulls him back so he doesn’t get scorched.

_[It seems like they never run out of photos. Approaching recent ones, they are more selfies at home, casual candid snaps taken by their friends, and a few posed pictures here and there in private parties. There are some events that, if the audience squints their eyes carefully, could probably recognise - there’s President Lamarque’s (and Enjolras’) inauguration ceremony, where they pose together in front of the camera. Interestingly, this picture has been in the papers, but people didn’t think much about it. The same ceremony where Enjolras shot into world fame before he even implemented any of his plans. He was on the front page of Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram - as the “Hot Politician” from France.]_

(“Fuck off,” Enjolras had said after that, “They only look at me because of my looks.” To which, Grantaire kissed him on the cheeks and replied, “Well then, prove them wrong.”)

_[There’s the Grammys. Enjolras was not invited to the ceremony, obviously, because that’s just… not his scene, and there’s no reason for him to be invited. Of course he wants to support his boyfriend, but there’s nothing to be said - what’s he gonna tell them? However, he managed to book a diplomatic trip to America around that time, and at the after-party where Enjolras was generously welcomed, they snapped a cheeky selfie around the bar table.]_

-

“Wind Beneath My Wings” has always been a song Enjolras loved. Grantaire knows that, but to hear him sing that about him? God, it makes his heart filled with love and joy and … surprise. Grantaire did say that he was going to tell the world about them, he did tell Enjolras to wait “just a little bit”, but gosh - to hear him being talked about, to see his face being blasted on the projector and to hear the crowd’s approval does make Enjolras so, so happy. He wonders why they've never had the courage to show off each other to the world before this moment - he wonders what the hell they were afraid of. 

“You two are gross,” Courfeyrac says behind him.

“Shut up,” Enjolras whispers, swatting his hands away, but couldn’t contain his own smile.

“Well, it’s always all or nothing from you guys, right?” Combeferre joins in from the other side. It’s obvious they’re both in on this, since they both “randomly” appeared in the concert today when they’re supposed to have gone off to Morocco for their honeymoon already. “You either keep this such a secret from everyone else, or you make such a huge gesture in front of thousands of people. Cheeky bastards.”

“It’s his idea,” Enjolras tries very, very hard to suppress the ever-growing grin, but fails, “Plus, aren’t you guys supposed to be in Morocco now? What are you doing here?”

He hears the crowd clap and cheer even louder than before, and he tries to peek out from the side of the stage secretly. Even just taking one step closer to the edge of the stage, he could see the packed crowd under the night sky. The flashlights on their phones, pearly white, shining like an ocean of innumerable stars, and Grantaire. His love, who shines so bright on stage. Enjolras is the wind that propels him, that sends him soaring like an eagle, he says, but Grantaire himself has to be _the_ eagle. The one who braves the gale in front - Enjolras is simply there to cheer him on. Always. And it goes both ways - he cheers for Grantaire whenever he gets a new nomination, or a new song, he is always the first one to listen to Grantaire’s new compositions, but Grantaire is also the one who proofreads Enjolras’ documents when he’s too tired to, the one who pulls Enjolras to bed, the one who makes coffee for him every morning. He doesn’t understand what he’s done in his past life to deserve such an amazing person beside him - but he’s not complaining. 

“I’m really happy you guys seem to appreciate him as much as I do - and I really really wish that he likes what I put up here just now,” Enjolras hears Grantaire say, “So yeah, Enj, Apollo, come on out here!”

They lock eyes - and Enjolras cannot help but grin at his boyfriend like a total idiot. His heart was bursting, hurting with sweetness just from the gorgeous view. Grantaire’s guitar is still strapped around his torso, the one he designed himself, with a green tone to symbolise himself and golden specks to symbolise Enjolras. (“Even when you can’t see me, you’ll know that I’m playing for you.”) His loose curls are slightly sweaty from the heat of the stage lights, sticking onto his forehead, and he just looks adorable. Enjolras’ legs carry him out to where Grantaire is, and he’s still a little taken aback by just how _loud_ the crowd is. It was nothing when he was backstage - gosh, the cheers just come from every single direction, and he waves confidently at the crowd below, just to fuel their cheers even more.

“Ever the charmer,” Grantaire teases him, “You’re going to steal all my fans.”

“Well,” Enjolras pouts, deciding to play along, “I don’t see anyone cheer for me like this when I get off the plane on diplomatic visits.”

“Change careers, stupid,” Grantaire laughs, but it turns a little awkward, “Do you… like it?”

“Do I like it?” Enjolras is dumbfounded - he thinks it must be a rhetorical question, but Grantaire seems genuinely worried, “Are you kidding me? Of course I like it! I _love_ it! You’re amazing, and you’re right, waiting is so worth it.”

“I’m glad,” Grantaire smiles, ruffling Enjolras’ blond mop of hair, then glances at the crowd, who’s making a whole spectrum of noises, mostly “awww”s and cheers, phones out, taking videos, “Now let’s give them what they want, shall we?”

Before he could even answer, Grantaire lands a deep yet gentle kiss onto Enjolras’ mouth. They’ve had _way_ more passionate kisses, they’ve had shyer pecks, they’ve had more sentimental ones too, but this one does almost make him feel as nervous as their first kiss, all those years back at the park near Enjolras’ campus. The kiss doesn’t ever seem to end - it’s not just the crashing of the lips, it’s not just feeling his smile _grow_ under the kiss, it’s not just closing his eyes slowly as he immerses himself in the sheer love that’s felt from the connection of the two. It’s the emotions piled up from the five years, it’s every single time they wanted to grab their boyfriend’s hand and stomp towards the journalists when rumours spread, it’s _finally_ being able to touch each other, show their love for each other when they’re out. Finally being able to walk hand in hand on the streets. No more need to pretend that they barely know each other in the rare event that they end up both attending.

And when they kiss, it’s as if they are the only ones around. They don’t hear the sounds around them, the deafening screams of the fans, the drums that are playing, and the all-around bustling sounds of the Parisian night. 

-

He’ll do this. He _can_ do this. He told Enjolras to wait, and it’ll be worth it - and he did, Enjolras actually _listened,_ he’ll make this the damn most unforgettable night in both of their lives. Enjolras is happy already, he knows, and he’s proud of making him happy. But that’s not enough. Enjolras deserves more.

So he does it.

-

It doesn’t register for Enjolras right away when Grantaire gets down on one knee. He’s still grinning at the crazy crowd in front of him, proud of how loved his boyfriend is, so when he hears the crowd’s screams go even louder (he did not deem it possible), he turns back to Grantaire just to see him already on one knee, looking up at him expectantly yet anxiously, a small box in his hands.

He knows what’s going on. He does - he’s not stupid. He’s quite smart, as a matter of fact, and he’s watched way more than enough proposals in his 23 years on Earth to know how it looks like. This is exactly one. Yet, he supposes, it’s true when people act all shocked and dysfunctional when they face a proposal. Because he is in total shock, mouth shaped like an “O”, hands shot up to cover half of his face. He struggles to hold back tears - and it both sends him a great amount of joy and disappointment, because he’s disappointed himself by being such a sap in front of everyone (he’d never expect himself to be someone who cries about a public engagement. He’s always imagined himself to keep his composure and accept it gracefully, but well, not the case), but his heart bursts with joy and gratefulness and surprise at the same time. 

So he doesn’t necessarily _hear_ Grantaire’s voice, because his own adrenaline is still very much rushing in his brain, but he _sees_ Grantaire, and it’s enough to make out the words,

“Julien Enjolras, will you marry me?”

-

Practically, Grantaire _knows_ Enjolras would say yes. They’ve talked about marriage more than once before, albeit casually, and it was gone unsaid that they were both ready for the next stage of life, plus, they were “the one” for each other, surely. (If that wasn’t true, Grantaire could honestly jump off a building) But, he could still feel his heart beating crazily when he actually pops the question.

So when he sees Enjolras hold his left hand out, the other on his mouth, nodding non-stop, the tears start to fall and he quickly slots the diamond ring onto Enjolras’ middle finger. Enjolras stands up, and throws himself into Grantaire’s arms, landing a hard kiss on his cheek to the absolutely thundering screams of everyone, which never seemed to die down today, honestly, and he says in Grantaire’s ear - it’s probably shouting, but he doesn’t hear more than a whisper, “I haven’t cried yet, why are you crying?”

“I was just happy you said yes,” Grantaire shouts back.

“Are you kidding me?” Enjolras looks a little comically offended, “Did you think I’d say no?”

Grantaire shrugs, breaking into a laugh.

“I love you, my fiancé,” Enjolras repeats the word “fiancé” a few times, “Rolls well on my tongue!”

-

The single most viral thing on the internet the next morning is a thread of tweets posted by this girl called Amélie. It documents her way through Grantaire’s concert, first an obviously well-taken (quite aesthetic) picture of the stage in the darkness as the night has fallen in the city. That was before Grantaire even took the stage. 

_(@amliesch said: his music has helped me through my last year of high school and i’ve saved up enough for a concert. i can’t fucking wait.)_

_(she replies: god, fuck off, i know about all the shitty news. and of course i’d be disappointed if that happened, but i’ve bought the ticket and his music has changed my life. might as well enjoy it.)_

There are a few tweets here and there, mostly short blurry videos, her jumping up and down while singing along to the music, or photos of the crowd, often shifting onto the stage at Grantaire’s singing figure. The fact that she’s gotten a healthy amount of retweets already from fans around the world who are, or are not at the concert is partly because she’s definitely standing quite near the stage. 

Of course, the thread started to _blow up_ when Grantaire started to address the whole Apollo-Enjolras issue. The thousands of likes and retweets started to flow in with this one tweet, just text. All caps, because she’s obviously nervous, agitated, somewhat… excited.

_(OH MY GOD GUYS. SOMETHING BIG IS COMING. HE’S TALKING ABOUT THAT THING THAT HAPPENED. AND APOLLO. LOVE DECLARATION RN.)_

_(SHIT “HE’S READY TO SAY HELLO” WE ARE GOING TO GET A BIG REVEAL)_

The next tweet is a hastily taken photo of Combeferre on the screen, introducing the video. Chaos start to ensue in the replies.

_(what the fUCK ok this is COMBEFERRE the guy who GOT MARRIED LIKE LAST WEEK one of the grooms of THAT WEDDING. Happy marriage btw uM ok so he saID “OUR MEETING” and he’s MINISTER ENJOLRAS’ BesT FRIEND fuck whAT IF IT’S ACTUALLY HIM. APOLLO.)_

And when Grantaire starts to sing, frantic tweets by Amélie follow. A short video taken with the first verse and the start of the slideshow featuring the group pictures and the back of Enjolras’ head.

_(that’s enjolras’ university rebel group i swear I'VE SEEN THIS ON THE NEWS !!!! and um that is DEFINITELY MINISTER ENJOLRAS’ HAIR I MIGHT OR MIGHT NOT HAVE RETWEETED A TWEET OF HIS ‘PRINCELY LOOKS THROUGHOUT THE YEARS’ TWO WEEKS AGO fuck fuck fuck this is GETTING REAL)_

The internet explodes _with her_ when Enjolras’ face is actually shown on the slideshow. There’s a video, around 15 seconds, and it catches a part of Grantaire’s little speech during the instrumental before the chorus. And some of the chorus itself.

_(i KNEW, i’ve anticipated this since what 7 MINUTES AGO but like still wtf wtf wtf it’s ALWAYS BEEN HIM they’re the fucking power couple of france vive la france akdjfhl and also @ the PEOPLE WHO WERE SPITTING INSULTS UMMMMMMM)_

_(they’re so hot ?????)_

_(he said. “I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE HIM.” he said that ENJOLRAS IS THE PERSON HE ADMIRES THE MOST. and MY APOLLO. They’re so in love i STAN)_

Another thread starts, from her, after a few more tweets under the previous thread, mostly similar messages with a few illegible keyboard slams. It gets almost as many likes, though, than the previous one, probably because of the obvious spike in the quality of the pictures that are attached.

_(okay oh my goSH ENJOLRAS IS COMING OUT TO THE STAGE pinch me pls and uh i’m gonna try taking better pics and post so YALL CAN SEE THEM and THEY CAN MAYBE SEE THIS TWEET LOL @Rofficial @JEnjolrasFrance)_

A picture of Grantaire’s hands ruffling Enjolras’ hair is attached as the first reply. They’re actually around the same height, Grantaire _is_ a little taller, but their height difference looks starker as Enjolras’ head as half dropped onto Grantaire’s shoulder. You can almost _hear_ the picture.

_(wtf THEY’RE ADORABLE.)_

There’s then, obviously a few pictures snapped when they enter the passionate kiss in front of the crowd. It’s sweet, it’s powerful - and the photos of course get retweeted and liked, again, thousands of times. By the time she tweeted the set of kissing pictures, both her threads were nearing a hundred thousand likes. Even those who were previously uninterested in politics or Grantaire’s music were hooked into this groundbreaking piece of news inevitably going to grasp the headlines.

_(i wish you all could be here omg THESE PHOTOS DO NOT DO THEM JUSTICE. First, they look SO MUCH BETTER IRL and also this kiss is the BEST kiss i’ve seen in my whole life.)_

A two-minute video follows, documenting the whole of the proposal. 

(When Grantaire and Enjolras saw the video, they both _swore_ it felt longer than that.)

You honestly can’t hear anything in the video, because the crowd was just _so. loud._ There were just screams, and no one could hear anything from the two main focuses of the video, so it’d be better off if the video was muted. Well, not really, because seeing the enthusiasm of the crowd is pretty fun. It’s fortunate that Amélie was standing right up front because the video turned out clear enough for anyone to see the whole process. The kneel, the shock, the ring, the nod, the tears, the hug, the kiss. Showing off the engagement rings. Grantaire shouting into the microphone, “Fuck yeah I’ve done it!” and Enjolras gracefully acknowledging the crowd, ever the well-poised politician, “Mister and Mister. Thank you for being here.”

_(Warning to earphone wearers !!! / KJDFHLAK OH MY GOD. PROPOSAL. THEY’RE ENGAGED. ENJOLRAS SAID YES. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK THIS TICKET WAS SO WORTH THE PRICE I’M SO HAPPY FOR THEM. THEY’RE A FUCKING FRENCH ROYAL COUPLE YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE)_

_(still not used to having an actual name to refer APOLLO as)_

The hashtags #FranceRoyalCouple #Enjoltaire and #ItWasAlwaysHim trend worldwide. There are thousands of pictures, tweets, both from the thousands who attended the concert and the millions who didn’t. Their friends’ congratulatory posts on social media, retweeted hundreds of thousands of times. 

_(@courfeyrac said: Finally a secret no more. My best friend and his fiancé hell yeah!)_

Amélie’s threads reach a million likes by the next morning and are featured on various gossip and news accounts the next day. And yes, of course, the whole concert definitely took the headline. 

Pablo Montparnasse from the world-famous American reality show of his rich family was not very happy because his new fragrance line was virtually ignored by the internet despite it being the talk of the town for months already, but Grantaire and Enjolras are certainly the happiest guys there could be.

_(@Rofficial tweeted: haha, surprise! @ameliesch enj and i enjoyed looking through your threads a lot. thank you for catching the whole proposal on video, we’ll treasure it. and thank you for every tweet under the hashtags, plus the 1.7 million people who liked amélie’s thread, we receive all your well wishes.)_

_(@JEnjolrasFrance tweeted: Grantaire and I are very grateful (and amused) for everyone’s overwhelming support. I personally don’t care about the minimal bigotry. To those people who are still living in the past, Grantaire and I wish you a more open mind in the future. In the meantime, please shift your focus to the countless humanitarian issues around the world that I, as Foreign Minister professionally and an advocate personally, will continue to try and tackle, of course, given that I will surely fulfill the job to serve our country.)_

-

The video eventually trended again ten months later in the “mariage du siècle” when it was featured in Grantaire and Enjolras’ wedding.

“Second time caught kissing in a wedding!” Grantaire laughs when they pose for the journalists.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU for reading this. at the time of posting, I'm heading to sleep RN. it's late, I have school tmrw. PLEASE leave kudos/comments if you like this bc hey that's literally my food. I'm thirsty for attention x and also go check out my other fic in the works if u haven't yet haha
> 
> -
> 
> Songs Referenced
> 
> When You Were Young - The Killers  
> Sober - Pink  
> Unchained Melody - The Righteous Brothers  
> Wind Beneath My Wings - Bette Midler


End file.
